


What's Wrong, May Be Right...

by neichan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-06
Updated: 2006-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-05 16:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neichan/pseuds/neichan
Summary: Dean finds out just How far he can go for his brother.





	What's Wrong, May Be Right...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

  
Author's notes: I know there weren't as many eandearments as possible...but when there were more...it was sort of humorous...and everyone knows I don't have a sense of humor...~clears throat, looking innocent~  


* * *

"Sam." Dean leaned over his brother from his own place in the bed. The hotel had had only one room left in their price range, and only one full sized bed in it. It wasn't the first time they'd had to share, but it was the first time since Sammy had tried to kiss him that they'd done so. Dean wasn't able to sleep as well as he normally did. Most days he could drop off to sleep anywhere, anytime.

 

Sam was also more restless than usual. Tossing and turning, muttering under his breath, as far as Dean could tell, his little brother was having a conversation with his dead girlfriend, Jess. Or rather an argument, judging from what Dean could hear from Sam's side of the conversation. Despite being his father's first son, he couldn't hear Jess's side, and no, he didn't wish that he could. He didn't want to hear the dead. It was bad enough to listen to Sammy when his brother heard them.

 

Sort of creepy, to know that while he sometimes saw demons and ghosts and specters, Sammy actually heard what they said. Spoke back, too. Had real talks with them. Dean shivered. Now Sam was talking to Jess, and as far as Dean knew it was also real for Sam.

 

Sam jerked his head to one side, an abrupt, sharp movement...like...Jess had hit him? Dean was certain of it, and it pissed him off, too. No one was going to get away with hitting his little brother, not even the ghost of his girlfriend. He shook Sam's shoulder. Sam gasped, his eyes flying open, panicked.

 

"Hey." Dean kept his tone soothing and low, trying to calm Sam down. His hand felt warm, big, and a little awkward on the bare shoulder, but he left it there. This was his brother, and he loved him, damn it. There was nothing wrong with that. There was no one on Earth who was closer to him than his brother. Not even Dad.

 

Sam relaxed almost at once, seeing who it was. He made a move closer to Dean, then froze, looking up through the dimness into Dean's eyes, huge, scared eyes framed by unbelievable, long dark lashes. Remembering, perhaps, Dean pushing him away less than a day ago. After Sammy had kissed him at the last place they'd stopped for the night.

 

Dean stroked the tense arm, snugging his own more tightly around Sam, holding him. "Hey," he said again, "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you, hon. Relax, baby brother."

 

He didn't expect to see the big eyes fill with tears. He felt emotion choke him. What had he done, thrusting Sam away like he had? He'd been surprised, sure, but that didn't mean he had the right to hurt Sam because of it.

 

"Oh, babe." He murmured. "I am so sorry, sweetheart. Come on, relax and let me hold you." He pulled Sam nearer. They only had each other, unless they somehow found Dad. He loved Sammy. They spent all their time together. Not much chance of finding a girl for Sam to get close to. Or him, either. But he wasn't worried about himself, sure he liked sex, wished he had more of it. But he wasn't afraid of turning to Sam for it. Not like Sam....well, Sam had turned to him for it. And Dean had pushed him away.

 

Sam had been lonely. Dean knew what that felt like. Sam wanted to be close, physically, to someone, and Dean was the only one available. So, he'd reached out to the man who was always beside him... Dean had reacted badly, instinctively. And Sam had been hurt. Shoved into a table, bruised all along his right side. But the look on his face, his beautiful, innocent face...so precious, so loved, the shock, the fear.... Dean couldn't bear to see that look directed at him, not from Sam. Yes, Dean loved Sammy. Loved him with his whole heart. He was family. Friend. Soul-mate. Hell, they kept each other safe and alive.

 

But Sam turning to him wanting sex... Dean had been shocked, unprepared. That was totally unexpected coming from his brother. Dean knew he was attractive. And he'd spent a little time in jail, too. He knew what men wanted from other men, especially attractive young men. Boredom, the inaccessibility of women, hormones, anger...it all boiled down to getting your rocks off just to let off some steam. Dean had had to fight to not be part of that shit. He had no desire to grab his ankles for any of the guys that had made it very clear they wanted him. The thought of them touching him...it made him sick.

 

Just like hitting Sam, his sweet brother, his helpmate, his companion, made him sick. But he'd done it. He'd hit Sam. Hurt him. Just because Sam surprised him, kissed him. He shook his head, running a hand over the thick, curly/wavy head of hair that was pressed to his neck. Sammy, love.

 

The younger man who was shaking against him, afraid of him. Dean knew Sam was afraid. The same way he'd known what it was Sam intended when he'd kissed him. He knew his brother. Better than Sam knew him. Some families kissed all the time on the lips. Theirs didn't, never had, not even when Mom was alive. Cheeks, sure. Not on the mouth, though. And not the men. Dean never recalled a kiss from his Dad. He'd seen Dad kiss Sam, when Sam was a baby, very young. But, between the men of the family, hugs were OK. Hugs they did. Kisses, they didn't.

 

Sam's arms wound their way around Dean. Strong, hard, when had that happened? Dean was always the strong one. Sam was the academic, soft, innocent, kind, sweet. Adorable, irresistible to the girls that always flocked around him. Dean was the wild child. The jock. The brawler. The fighter. The one who always got into trouble. The protector. Everyone in school had known better than to lay a single finger on Sam.

 

But now, Dean himself had assaulted his brother. The man he'd protected all his life. He moaned at the pain that thought brought to him. Hugged Sam closer. "I am so sorry, love. I am so sorry I hurt you. I love you, baby brother. I am so sorry." He whispered into Sam's hair. Kissed the curls, the faintly, sleep-moist skin at his temple. Sam was laying utterly still. Holding his breath.

 

Then Sam looked up. His eyes filled with astonished hope. His beautiful lips parted, his cheeks pink, flushed, his gaze a little fogged from recent waking. Ghod, was he beautiful. Dean admitted it.

 

Girls, women told Dean he was good looking. He knew that well enough. But Sam. Sam was lovely. He had a youthful, pure, androgynous beauty that was safe for all people to acknowledge. Even men had mentioned in Dean's hearing that Sam was a beautiful kid. Dean had watched those men, all men, around Sam. He wasn't letting anything like that happen to his brother. When Dad was off at work, Dean was with Sam. Watching. Protecting. From coaches, neighbors, friend's fathers...any man who looked at him. Dean trusted no one. Not with Sam.

 

Dean felt the pressure at the back of his own head. Felt it and knew what it would mean if he let Sam do it, go through with this. But, he'd already hurt Sam once. He wasn't going to ever do that again. He didn't fight. He let Sam draw him down, closer and closer to that open, sighing, hopeful mouth.

 

Warm and soft, so damn soft, when it rested, still, unmoving, on his own. Warm and sweet with promise. Sweet with the scent and flavor of Sam. Oh, ghod. Dean let the touch linger, didn't pull away. If that was what Sammy needed, better that Sammy come to him for it rather than any other man. Dean would not hurt him. Dean would give him what he needed and be gentle about it.

 

Sam sighed, his lips clinging now, parting, moving on Dean's mouth. His tongue, wet, hot, slick, coming out a tiny fraction, to lick, uncertain, at Dean's mouth. Then he pulled back. Gazed up at Dean with hope, trembling joy, his face filling with happiness.

 

And that was all it took. Dean couldn't say no. Couldn't try to talk his dear Sammy out of this. Couldn't try to tell him to wait, he'd find him a girl, a cute girl for him to do this with. Sammy wanted this. Now. It made Sammy happy.

 

Sam. Dean wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't refuse him. Not again, not for the world. Dean opened his mouth when Sam's mouth rose up next. He kissed his darling baby brother, simply because Sam wanted it, and Dean loved him enough to give it to him. To give anything to him that he wanted.

 

He let Sam's tongue back into his mouth, and the taste exploded across his own. Pure, undiluted, wonderful Sam-flavor. Heady. He petted his hands down Sam's sides. He'd make it good. Show Sam he loved him. Show him that he didn't need to go to any other guy for this. This wasn't safe for Sammy to go to someone else for. For this, only Dean was safe.

 

And when Sam's eager, unsure hand crept down, Dean let it. He spread his legs, let Sam find him big and hard, ready for what Sam wanted. His whole body shuddered, his head lifted, and he moaned while Sam watched him. He felt the shiver that wracked Sam at the sound of his moan. Felt the answering jerk of his brother's sex against his leg. Saw the wonder in those perfect, shining eyes.

 

"Love you, Sammy." Dean said. "Love you, babe. Love you." Not closing his eyes. Sammy needed him. He would give him what he needed. With his eyes wide open, he'd give Sam what he wanted. Sweet, sweet, incredible Sam....


End file.
